All entries for November 2004

November 22, 2004

Left Behind

I remember, it keeps returning
Least expected, it zooms around me
I remember what I forgot
Or at least, so I thought, but
Every time I remember, it puzzles me
Leaves me confused to see me
But younger, different, so committed
To something there, in the past
And left behind.

No Sign–post, And No–one

How much time before a signpost may be seen?
How much walk, and which way, which direction?
I am afraid that I’ll be tired, and that I will not find it
That which I am looking for.

How long still, before a people’s face will fade?
Their great shared being, collective desire?
That the sea washes over, time after time
Apathetically, yes, so careless and hurting
As it is washed away.

Shout I will, desperately
And miles away it will resound
But who will hear?
Before my voice dies away.

Not without a fight, not like that, no!
I will struggle, loosen a grip of my wrists
Attempt to shake it off, grasp
That it not be air!
That it is not a void, I beg.

The Wind

The warm wind
Swiftly touching upon my hair
Lovely caressing my suffering face
This wind, travelling
Ages and places
To share this moment with me
And moving,
moving always
To be what it forever has been:
A feather so light
In this stone world so big.

This warm wind
People here are so familiar with
Bring hope from another place
Creating routes of space
Where there seems no way out
This breeze carrying
a scent so fine
Putting in place our part here
Reminding me of you
Who, whether it takes hours,
months, years,
Whether it’s elsewhere or here
Will be feeling it, too.

Paud, January 2004


Where is the spark
It used to fly around
Where-ever I stood or went
My body, my soul
Dressed in a suit of
Flaming desire

The places where I stood
Have become something
Not of this world
A story, a poem
My dreams were pure of
Passionate heart

Every day now
Once or twice spinning
Back the wheel of time
An icy, mat longing
Though inculpable, unwanted
Yet, strongly tearing me.

A Teacher On Living Now

‘Disillusion is illusion
The weighty moment is
at your feet
A decision, a deed, a scream waits
to come into existence
It’s all in your hands

‘Every second’s an entity
Every look a film
Every word a story

Look at your past:
You will know
Look around you, and see:
The walls that you can climb.’

The Beautiful Pattern of Nature

Streams glide down my roof
From my position,
one can only hear the rain,
not see it.

From hundreds of metres
Falling in place.

Autumn, every time, every year
Every place, I can smell you
See you and enjoy it.
Every time I discover a new look
in your familiar face.

Bikers with bowed heads, passing puddles
Coloured leaves, small and big
Wet roads, dark, the cold I caught
The colours of the light, the last green
in the sun. It is all you.

November 2004

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